"So that's how it is!"
John Chou looked at the three humanoid figures, deep in thought. He had listened to everything that happened after the three mimics transformed into humans.
"I really do work hard, you know. I do way more than those guys. Don't people like hardworking folks?"
Faced with the gray mimic's question, John Chou nodded, then shook his head.
"You only care about your own affairs and ignore everyone else. Humans are social creatures; you can't fit into that group. Plus, with that unsettling smile of yours, no one is going to treat you kindly."
After standing up, John Chou glanced at the gray mimic. Even after transforming, the mimic still wore a smile—a twitching, stiff, almost painful grin.
"Take the first place you visited. You said you worked hard to pull people in all over the city, right? Out earliest and home latest every day. Did anyone ever invite you to hang out?"
The gray mimic thought for a moment, then nodded.
"A few times, I think..."
John Chou patted him on the shoulder.
"If you want to coexist with people, you have to learn how to interact with them. Even if you have a human appearance, a human smile, a human experience, you still can't truly become human."
Now it was the black mimic's turn. He started shouting loudly.
"Isn't human society led by the strong? How could what I did be wrong?"
"No matter how strong you are, in human society, a lone strongman doesn't exist. Fear may control many things, but only for a while. Like when your followers rebelled and you ended up alone, with no one on your side. After all, no one is born to be alone. When you use power to control things to a certain extent, without a strong enough vessel, things will backfire. That fear will eventually devour you. Remember, everyone who stands alone meets their end."
Finally, it was the white mimic's turn. He couldn't figure out why his business was failing. He neither socialized nor made enemies; if someone tried to hit him, he simply fought back.
"I didn't do anything, so why is my business like this?"
"You don't communicate with people, so of course you don't know what they're thinking. You don't want any restrictions and crave freedom, but the human world has something called rules. If you want to be human, you can't rise above those rules. Once you do, you're bound to fail."
John Chou's words left the three mimics deep in thought. They didn't fully understand what he meant, but in their confusion, it felt like something was becoming clear.
"Whatever. It all feels pretty dull. I still don't know what a heart really is, anyway. Forget it—I'll ask Rufina Howard when she gets back."
The white mimic quickly gave up, and the black mimic also showed no intention of returning.
"Hmph, those losers—without coming together, they're like ants. But ants are still ants, no matter how many gather. If it weren't for having to act human, I'd have wiped them all out already."
John Chou looked at the white and black mimics and shook his head helplessly. Meanwhile, the gray mimic found a mirror and some magazines, studying what a human smile should look like. He decided to try again—this time, he would succeed.
Gradually, the gray mimic's repulsive smile faded, and his expression became more natural. He stopped thinking only about working hard.
"Try again this time. What people fear most is not being able to see what's around them. You have to pay attention to that."
The gray mimic nodded and continued on to the provincial capital.
"This time, I have to become human."
After making up his mind, he went to a restaurant and got hired. On his first day, he acted very familiar with everyone, hoping they'd invite him out, but they just looked at him strangely.
The gray mimic kept imitating the others—drinking when they drank, joking when they joked, even sharing stories from books.
But by the third day, he was fired again. Behind his back, he heard people calling him an idiot and mocking him.
The gray mimic wasn't discouraged. He went back and told John Chou what had happened.
John Chou covered his forehead with one hand, looking speechless. Mr. Brown stood nearby, laughing with his hand over his mouth.
"What do you see up in the sky? I taught you this before. You should be able to feel the heat now."
The gray mimic nodded seriously.
"So what happens if you get too close to the sun?"
"You'll get burned up, right?"
John Chou nodded.
"In human society, relationships that get too close can burn each other. People are born different, with different experiences and values. You are you, he is he—you can't become someone else, and others can't become you. That's why they reject you. Keep trying, but next time, don't imitate others. People find that off-putting."
This time, the gray mimic remembered John Chou's advice. He went to work at a night soil collection place, kept quiet, and worked diligently.
The first time someone invited him out, he observed carefully, no longer imitating others. He answered only when spoken to.
Things seemed to improve. He worked for a week without being fired, and the foreman even praised him. Others invited him out, too.
But he didn't understand why the others looked at him strangely. His coworkers got him involved in gambling.
Soon, the gray mimic's wages were wiped out every day, but he felt happy because everyone was willing to spend time with him, even though their looks were still odd.
For the first time, the gray mimic understood what the word 'friend' meant. So this is what it feels like.
(Irrelevant passage: skip translation)
Some coworkers pitied him. After gambling, they'd give him some money, saying it was for food.
Over time, he was nicknamed 'the purse.' He was quite proud of it. When he told John Chou, Mr. Brown covered his forehead and sighed, but John Chou just laughed.
"Keep going. Isn't it nice to have friends?"
The black mimic seemed to notice something. He clenched his fists.
"Those losers are obviously cheating him out of his money. No one loses every day at gambling without foul play. If it were me, I wouldn't be so clueless."
Just as the black mimic said, the coworkers used gambling to drain the gray mimic's hard-earned money. The kind ones left him some for food; the cruel ones took everything.
Unable to sit still, the black mimic took the gray mimic to check things out. That day, while the gray mimic was out working, the black mimic disguised himself as a burly man and entered the factory.
When confronted by the black mimic, the coworkers sneered. The black mimic beat them up and warned that anyone who bullied the gray mimic again would be killed.
"Did you really have to go that far? Just let Gray do what he wants."
"Hmph, the three of us came from the same place. Can you really stand by and watch them bully him?"
When the gray mimic returned to the factory, he noticed everyone was injured and afraid of him. When he mentioned gambling after dinner, everyone avoided him.
Gradually, no one spent time with the gray mimic anymore. He wondered what had happened.
The black mimic kept coming by to warn the others. After two months, the gray mimic was fired, but he was extremely happy and wanted to treat his coworkers to a meal. However, no one showed up.
"What's wrong, Gray? What are you thinking about?"
The gray mimic sat at the table and saw the black and white mimics walk over.
"Weren't they my friends? Why didn't anyone come in the end? What did I do wrong?"
The white mimic opened a bottle of wine, poured some, and laughed heartily.
"You did great this time—two months! Try again next time."
The gray mimic laughed along. The three of them drank together, but they didn't really understand what alcohol tasted like. They just imitated humans, drinking and chatting, but it was cold and emotionless, like machines.
The next day, the gray mimic didn't rush to find work. He seemed to have realized something and said he wanted to think about how far he still was from being human.
The three mimics took on human forms and settled in the provincial capital, wandering the streets every day. Whenever the black mimic saw his former subordinates, he was overwhelmed by the urge to kill, but the gray and white mimics always held him back and tried to calm him.
"Hey, you three—aren't you the ones everyone talks about?"
Eight months later, Rufina Howard returned. She recognized the three mimics on the street. Beside her was a tall, elegant man with white hair and a gentle smile.
"So you three are the friends Rufina mentioned, right? Hello, nice to meet you. I'm Mason Payne, Rufina's boyfriend."
Mason Payne's voice was gentle and magnetic, his smile warm. He reached out his hand, but the three mimics instinctively backed away.
"Hey, what's with that reaction? Are you really that surprised I have a boyfriend?"
It was hostility—the three mimics' eyes flashed with suspicion toward Mason Payne. He smiled slightly, a hint of cunning in his gaze.